44 Scotland Street - Alexander McCall Smith [25]
A Modest Gift
was now staring was indeed a Peploe then it would be worth, what, forty thousand pounds?
The door chime sounded and Pat looked up. It was the man who had called in yesterday – the man in the casual sweater who had examined the painting and pronounced on it with such authority.
He walked over towards the desk.
“I was just passing by and I thought I might take a quick look at one or two other things. I have a birthday present to buy, and that’s terribly difficult, you know. A little painting perhaps
– nothing too pricy, but something that will hang on any wall without shouting. You know what I mean.”
“Please look around,” said Pat, gesturing at the display on the walls. “You might find something.”
The man smiled and sauntered over to the wall to Pat’s right.
“D.Y. Cameron prints,” he muttered, just loudly enough for her to hear. “Not bad for one’s aunt, but not really suitable for one’s lover. Know what I mean?”
Pat was not sure how to respond; she had an aunt, but no lover, and so she laughed. This made the man turn round and look at her with a raised eyebrow.
“You think otherwise?” he asked.
“No,” said Pat. “I’m sure you’re right.”
He resumed his browsing, now moving over to the wall on which the Peploe imitation hung. He stopped and peered down at it more closely.
“How much are you asking for this . . . this Saturday afternoon work?”
“Saturday afternoon?”
“It’s when amateurs get their paints out,” he explained. “This person, for example, was probably a retired bank manager from Dumfries or somewhere like that. Painted a bit. Like our friend Mr Vettriano.”
Pat caught her breath. She had seen the comments about Mr Vettriano and she knew that some people had a low opinion of his work, but she did not share these views. She rather liked pictures of people dancing on beaches in formal clothes, with The Boys Discuss Art
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their butlers; she had never seen this happen, of course, but it was always possible. Just.
She reached for the list which Matthew kept in the top drawer. Running her eye down the figures, she came to the appropriate entry. Scottish school – Unknown: initials SP – Some Person? One hundred and fifty pounds.
“One hundred and fifty pounds,” said Pat.
The man stood back and stroked his chin. “One hundred and fifty? A bit steep, isn’t it? But . . . but, maybe. It would be a nice little gift for my friend.” Then, turning to Pat, he said decisively:
“I’ll take it. Wrap it up please. I’ll pay in cash.”
Pat hesitated. “On the other hand,” she said. “If it’s a Peploe, then one hundred and fifty might be a little bit low. Perhaps forty thousand would be more appropriate.”
The man, who had been crossing the floor towards the desk, stopped.
“Peploe? Don’t be ridiculous! Would that it were! But it isn’t. Out of the question.”
Pat watched him as he spoke. She saw the slight flush of colour to his brow and the movement of his eyes, which darted sideways, and then returned to stare at her. She was convinced now that she had taken the right decision. The painting was no longer for sale.
20. The Boys Discuss Art
Matthew arrived in the gallery just before it was time for him to cross the road for morning coffee at Big Lou’s. Pat started to tell him of the two visits of the would-be purchaser of the Mull/Iona painting, but he stopped her.
“This is big,” he said. “Come and tell me about it over coffee. The boys will want to hear about this. We’ll close the shop for an hour. This is really, really big.”
They made their way over the road to Big Lou’s, crossing the 52
The Boys Discuss Art
cobbled street down which the tall